Chapter 22: good stewards
The council expected that surprises would come from teenagers during their Rumspringa. Thomas Stoltzfus, however, was a respected elder of the community. His family had been farming in Lancaster County forever, and never in the family’s history had there been a serious violation of the community’s rules. Until this day.
That morning, Thomas left his farm early in the morning so that he could confer with Judge Thompson before he headed to Jakob Diener’s farm where the council meeting house had been erected nearly a century ago. He wanted to be sure that according to the judge, he was standing on solid legal ground, if the meeting didn’t go well. When the judge told him about how Kaybri had given HED the names of all the pet stores selling Amish dogs, Thomas felt an unusual tightness in his chest that caused his breathing to be slightly labored. Regardless, he climbed into his buggy, shook the reins, and drove to Diener’s Farm.
Many Amish communities worshipped in their homes. Thomas’s community had a dedicated building on Diener’s Farm. Although it wasn’t required that families come to Diener’s to worship, if notice was given that a meeting would be held, and only elders were invited, then everyone knew that meeting was of immense importance. The trip took less than an hour, and Thomas was the first to arrive. He found himself sweating more than usual even though Diener’s breezy farm was relatively comfortable even on the hottest days. The rhythmic clomping of the council members’ horses pulling their buggies near the building caused Thomas’s pulse to quicken.
The community’s traditions were rarely flouted. All things were measured by the seasons that came and went as assuredly as the sun rose and set. To change how things were done was an affront. God had blessed the Amish with their fertile farms and large families. If one of the faithful wanted changes, they were, in essence, thwarting God’s will and potentially bringing his wrath against the community. Thomas had seen the council occasionally change the rules. But those changes were thrust upon them by a government entity. Frankly, some of those changes, like putting reflective triangles on their buggies, had made sense. Other changes, like requiring Amish farmers to agree to use a certain type of seed, had been met with legal challenges based on religious freedom.
Thomas waited patiently on a bench on the porch outside the meeting center. It was a warm fall day that the locals called Indian summer. This last burst of summer warmth would soon fade, and cooler fall temperatures would abound. It was also a signal to finish the harvest.
Thomas was puzzled by how his body felt. He knew he was getting older and feeling the strain of age. At one time, he could work as hard as the younger men. Now he struggled to match their strength and stamina. Thomas was a prideful man. The men who would judge him that morning were also prideful. For them to admit that Thomas was right and approve the mechanical additions to Thomas’s farm that would allow dogs to be bred humanely would mean they would also have to admit that they had sanctioned inhumane practices. If there was one guiding principle that led the Amish, it was that they were good stewards of the land and the animals they kept. To admit otherwise would be a shock to the entire community and their way of life.
One man after another climbed down from his buggy, walked to the porch, nodded at Thomas, and went immediately inside without speaking a word. Even though the meeting was supposed to be the first discussion of the council’s grievances, the Lancaster Amish community knew full well what Thomas Stoltzfus had planned for his farm.
The council saw no reason to delay the inevitable. Jakob Diener moved immediately to condemn Thomas’s use of electrical devices without waiting for Thomas to argue his case. From their expressions and the nodding of their heads, Thomas could see that the council was in complete agreement and that nothing he said would change that. Nevertheless, Thomas felt that he had to try to convince the council there was another way to breed dogs.
His voice, usually loud and bold, was unusually weak. He started to say, “My friends, we need…” but then quickly collapsed to the floor, fighting for air. When his distress didn’t lessen, the men carried him to the back of his buggy.
One of the elders suggested that they take him to Dr. Bieler’s house. Thomas struggled to tell them he wanted to go to the hospital. A few of the elders thought his affliction had made him delusional. Diener ended the arguing by firmly instructing the council members to put Thomas in his buggy. Seconds later, Diener’s was driving Thomas to the hospital.
The staff at Lancaster General knew that for the Amish to bring someone to the hospital meant that the situation was critical. They took Thomas inside, and to Diener’s chagrin they immediately began to use mechanical equipment. Since the events of the morning had already violated norms, Diener didn’t see any reason to try and right things. Instead, he asked the person at the reception desk to call the veterinary clinic. When Autumn answered, Diener took the receiver and asked to speak to Noah. In the Amish language, he told Noah that his father was in the hospital and the situation was serious. He also shared with him the events that led up to his father’s collapse.
Diener moved Thomas’ buggy away from the emergency entrance to one end of the parking lot before walking back to see Thomas’ condition. The admitting nurse told him that only family could be in the examination room with the patient. Diener thought for a moment. After fifty years of loyalty and friendship, he was hard pressed to think of anyone who was more family than Thomas. The man was the first to arrive if Diener needed help with the harvest, shearing sheep, or helping with a difficult birth of a calf or a foal. No one worked harder when a barn needed erecting, and few Amish were more generous than Thomas if a farmer hit a financial hard patch. Hence, Diener confidently told the admitting nurse that he was family. He then was escorted to an examination room. Diener removed his hat from his bald head and sat down. He never moved from his seat until Noah arrived with his mother an hour later. During that time, the elder couldn’t help noticing the gleaming equipment that beeped loudly and regularly. The room was spotless, and the staff worked with an intensity that was remarkable. When Elizabeth and Noah arrived, he left and took his seat in the buggy. On the ride back to his farm, Diener thought about how Bieler would have treated Thomas as compared to what he saw at the hospital. It was during that ride that he began to consider that Thomas might have a point about change.